Blast Into The Past
by KRP
Summary: Broken and alone, Harry takes Fawkes up on an offer to go back through time to help his friends and himself to survive the war intact. The only problem, is how they want him to hide his presence. Fem!Harry,Blaise
1. Chapter 1 Sacrifice

Chapter 1; Sacrifice

Clouds filled the sky around an old, broken down castle in northern Scotland. Looking at the crumbling walls, collapsed towers, and dark, murky lake, one could easily guess how old the century old structure truly was. What one couldn't see was that less than two decades before, the castle was a thriving place filled with adults, children, teenagers and all manner of creatures. Neither could they tell of the one who still resided there.

At that moment, there was a stirring in a darkened room in one of the few still intact towers. The room was a rounded husk of what once could have been a magnificent place. Now, debris was scattered and thrown everywhere. Suddenly, a voice called out into the gloom.

"Well, my boy, it looks as if we may have a visitor, and a rather rare and peculiar one at that."

In a shadowed corner, a man stirred and finally sat up on the makeshift cot set up there. The man's body looked aged and deformed, but the look in his hooded eyes gave a look that told he was in no need of a new lease on life. The years had not been kind to this man, that much was certain.

There was a sudden ray of light in the clouds that hung in the sky. Soon, the light became a bird, and the bird entered the room from a missing window, landing on the remains of a desk and giving a soft thrill. As if responding to the bird's presence, most of the shadows seemed to wane, and a small fire jumped up in the remains of a fireplace at the bird's sharp glare.

The man, with long and dark matted hair falling past a surprisingly clear face and fierce emerald eyes sat adjacent to the fireplace looked at the bird with something akin to surprise on his features. On a shadowed shelf above the man's head, some cloth shifted until part of it split open as its voice once again filled the room.

"Well, it has been a while Fawkes. To what do Harry and I owe the pleasure?" the Sorting Hat asked. The phoenix gave another thrill and the hat nodded.

"You can understand Fawkes, Hat?" a rasping voice from Harry asked, only to choke slightly on his own words and start rubbing his throat. The Sorting Hat simply looked surprised the man had said anything at all, after being silent for about a full year.

Fawkes, who had been missing from just after Dumbledore's funeral in his sixth year, was currently staring at Harry before fluttering over and landing on his knee. The Sorting Hat slid off its shelf and onto Harry's head, letting him talk mentally if he preferred.

"Well, now. Finally deciding to be coherent, are we?" the Hat asked 'looking' down at Harry.

'_Yeah,'_ Harry thought to the Hat. _'Was that really my voice?'_

"Indeed. That's what happens if you don't use part of your body for prolonged periods of time, say, a year?" the Hat replied somewhat dryly. "So what brought on the actual thought process?"

'_Not sure,'_ Harry thought back. '_Maybe Fawkes…Yeah, probably Fawkes. Can you thank him for me?'_

"Do it yourself," the Hat responded, falling silent. Trying to clear his throat a bit, he was surprised he could actually make some noise, then he noticed Fawkes had been crying on his throat around where his voice box was located.

"Thanks, Fawkes. For everything," he managed to croak out. The phoenix gave another thrill, then Harry felt something slip by his rather deteriorated occlumency barriers.

"_You are welcome, young one. I actually come with a… proposition for you,"_ an ancient and powerful voice spoke into his mind, causing a slight start.

"Was that… you, Fawkes?" Harry asked, looking at the bird on his knee with some suspicion.

"_Of course. Though I must say that your magic has greatly deteriorated since we last met all those years ago."_

"My… magic deteriorated?" Harry asked, wondering just what was going on, on this rather odd day.

"Don't be surprised," the Hat spoke up again from on Harry's head. "When's the last time you've had any actual food? Your body's been sustained by your magic ever since you came here after _his_ defeat almost three years ago. When it ran out of free, wild magic from around you, your body began eating at your own magic, almost faster than your core could replace it. I'm actually rather lucky to still be around."

Thinking back, Harry couldn't actually remember much of the past, well, three years according to the Sorting Hat. When Voldemort had finally been defeated, Harry took a look around and found that there was actually nothing left for him. All of the Order, the Weasleys, and even Hermione finally passed away not a week after Voldemort fell from the coma she'd spent a year and a half in as a result of some unknown spell. Looking over himself once more, Harry was actually slightly amazed. _'This old body hasn't died yet? Heck, if the Hat can be trusted to tell time, I'm only somewhere in my thirty's.'_

"So, Fawkes, you mentioned something of a proposition?" Harry managed to ask after some more moments of thought.

"_Do you want to save them? Do you also want to save yourself?"_ the fire-bird asked, fixing Harry with his piercing stare.

'_Save myself?'_ Harry thought, Sorting Hat still on his head.

"In case you haven't noticed, my boy… you're wasting away. Not just figuratively, but literally as well," the Hat commented from his head. "I'm more curious what Fawkes would possibly get from this."

"…_Conclusion,"_ was the only answer offered.

"…Fine, what do we do?" Harry asked.

A little over a month after Fawkes' arrival, Harry Potter stood in a now-clean Head office. He was standing facing a mirror in the middle of a rather complex rune circle. The other odd thing in the office was the mirror itself. Or rather it's reflection.

"Do I really have to go that far to hide?" Harry asked staring somewhat apprehensively into the mirror. In the mirror was the picture of mid aged woman in her early thirties with long raven hair falling about her waist and framing a pair of violet eyes which were staring back into his own.

"Of course it is. Haven't you been listening at all this past month?" the Sorting Hat asked from his shelf which was now located behind where Harry stood. Fawkes was perched on top of the full length mirror itself.

"_We are traveling backwards with Time, young one. The fewer complications added in, the better for us. These two potions are the easiest and simplest to make,"_ Fawkes thrilled into his mind.

"Alright… so there will be two of me running around then?" Harry asked, eyes still locked on 'his' reflection. "How far back are we going, anyways?"

"_The best time would be shortly before Voldemort visits your parents, so that you can be rid of that scar. It wouldn't do to have two children with identical scars running around, now would it?"_

With a resigned sigh, Harry popped two vials out of the mirror, whose reflection became 'Harry' again before being banished into the far wall, shattering it in the process.

"You know, I might need to take this wand with me," Harry commented, staring at the shaft of ebony wood. "The Harry there will need your other wand, Fawkes, but none of Ollivander's other wands are really any good for me. He custom made this with the remains of your feather, mixed with my blood and the Basilisk Venom and Phoenix Tears still floating around in it."

"_I will be sure to drop it off, Harry. A note of caution may be necessary, though. It is a rather…volatile wand," _Fawkes commented.

"And you're sure these potions are what we need? Gender-Changing and Pigment-Draining potions don't usually last more than an hour at best," Harry commented, swirling the two potion vials he took from the mirror.

"Perhaps this is too complicated for mortals, hmm?" the Hat quipped from behind. "Let's try to dumb this down a bit for you. As you go backwards through time, your very life energies are being mixed with magic, mainly to keep your memories intact. As this happens, your body is broken down and rebuilt. If potions such as these are brought in as you are changing, they will be 'rebuilt' into your new body as well."

"That wasn't much better, but I guess I sort of understand now," Harry commented, still looking nervous.

"_Don't worry much about it, Harry. Just trust me to do my part, and you will be fine,"_ Fawkes said, taking perch on Harry's shoulder as he finished his short note which was wrapped around his wand and given to Fawkes.

"That should be it," Harry muttered, before turning to the Sorting Hat. "S'pose this is 'bye' for now, Hat. See you twenty-something years ago."

"Yes, I suppose you will, won't you?" the Hat said, sounding wistful. "If you want a bit of 'fun', try calling 'me' Damian during your sorting. It won't tell anything it finds in your head anyway, but he won't really have to look too far past your new memories to place you where you want."

"Thanks," Harry said, before turning to the bird on his shoulder. "Time to go, eh?"

Fawkes bobbed his head in a nod, before lifting his wings and singing a very solemn song. The room lit up spectacularly as all the runes around them seemed to ignite, then fire surrounded them. Harry just barely remembered to break open the potion vials before he lost consciousness.

chapter 1; end


	2. Chapter 2 Hogwarts Yr 1

Chapter 2; Hogwarts, Yr 1

As ten o'clock rolled around on Platform 9 ¾, many children were running around; saying goodbye's and boarding the train, preparing for the next four months or so on their own. From a bench near the far side of the platform, an eleven year old girl watched everything with a sense of detached amusement. Finally getting up, she began dragging her trunk along the length of the train before pausing at a rather familiar scene. A boy around her age was struggling to pull a trunk onto the train will very little, read 'no', success.

"Need any help?" she asked when she finally walked up to him. At first he seemed surprised someone was talking to him, before what she said actually registered to him.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble," he said, relief and hope evident in his voice.

"Here, you grab that end and pull," the girl said, moving to lift the back end as the boy pulled the other side up and into the train itself. Working together, the two levered the trunk up the few short stairs and into the train proper.

"Thanks for that," the boy commented, with a small sigh of relief. "Do you need me to hel…uh?"

He trailed off as the girl jumped off the train, picked up her own trunk, slightly larger than his own, and casually lifting it up next to his.

"Um…I think I over packed," the boy commented after a few minutes of shocked silence, much to the girl's amusement.

"Nah, Featherweight charms," the girl commented as if stating the obvious, which to her it probably was. "You should probably look into finding a magical guardian sometime before next year. It's so helpful having someone around who can do the magic for you.

"Well, I think that's that," she commented, brushing off the black cloak she wore before giving him a small wave. "The name's Blaise, by the way. See you around, Harry."

Blaise then turned and walked a little further down the inside of the train before ducking into a compartment a small ways down from the one she was rather certain he would end up in. By the time the final whistle blew and the Express set off, she had been joined by an assortment of other children, all first years as well, from some pureblood family or another. A few she was rather familiar with for some reason or another, such as Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Susan Bones; others were more unfamiliar but still known; such as Su Li, Ernie McMillan, and Daphne Greengrass. The conversations were rather like most of the Pureblood Gatherings all had attended at some point in time. Letting her body switch to autopilot, making comments and answering questions with the expected, if not always true answers, her mind began to wander into the past.

When Fawkes had dropped 'Harry' off at a random orphanage somewhere in London the day after he was 'born', there was a noticeable magical surge as they reentered the timeline. Feeling the shift, Voldemort began an attack that served as the first main difference in the timelines. It just so happened that Aaron and a heavily pregnant Maria Zabini had been spending an afternoon at a park not even a block away from the orphanage, where Voldemort and his Death Eaters just so happened to Apparate in. The surge also called the attention of both the Aurors and the Order of the Phoenix and soon, an all out battle broke out. Fighting mainly to defend themselves and to get away, the Zabini's got caught up in the crossfire, Maria happening to take a cruciatus curse over a slightly extended period of time. The family had lost their child, and Maria her ability to have any others. Sometime in the following weeks, they revisited the park in an attempt to gain conclusion, when they happened upon the orphanage and its sole magical occupant.

A short trip to St Mungo's for a basic child check-up, and a blood adoption ritual later, Blaise Zabini was registered as born August 14, 1980. Both the potions had worked perfectly, and a young girl with raven hair and amethyst eyes grew up with her own family, supposedly never knowing she was even adopted in the first place. Growing up, the little girl had been a bundle of energy, wanting to do anything and everything and often being chased down by John, officially the Zabini's butler, unofficially a disowned squib who was hired as an old acquaintance of Aaron's who couldn't fully fit into the muggle world and did anything that was needed, including helping to take care of the young Blaise.

In an attempt to quell the small girl's inquisitive nature, she was taught to read and write at a young age, and let loose (supervised, of course) into the family library. She was also given the same lessons all pureblood children were and was forced to attend some 'social gatherings' and other pureblood children's birthdays. During these times, to her parents' relief, she acted just as they wanted her to, as a perfect little lady. The rest of the time, however, she was the very definition of a tomboy, to the point that she made known a hatred for skirts and dresses, and begging her father until he began to teach her fencing and sword fighting; skills usually only taught to the male heirs to old families. Oddly enough, out of all the different styles her father knew (sword fighting having been an odd hobby for him), she seemed most drawn to a Japanese style using a katana. She learned this so well, she had eventually gotten John to act as chauffer to a few competitions in the muggle world, which her 'friends' knew nothing about. After all, why would a proper pureblood Lady-to-be wish to venture into the muggle world?

As her eleventh birthday rolled around and her Hogwarts letter arrived, Blaise surprised her parents by actually requesting to _not_ go to Diagon Alley until her birthday on the 14th, when the phoenix feather core wand was sure to be long gone. Ollivander's face when she was chosen by the odd wand he had found in his store years ago, was priceless. Following the note's suggestion, he had left well enough alone, but had still managed to partially determine the wand's core; a phoenix feather and a type of magical blood he couldn't identify. Of course, due to the wands temperament, he had not chanced placing the usual tracking wards onto the wand before it was sold, but he never mentioned that. Not that the young girl who bought the wand hadn't already known that.

Blaise was brought back to the present by the Ravenclaw Prefect stopping by the compartment with a reminder to get changed. Having worn most of the school uniform under her cloak, Blaise simply exchanged the cloak for the thin outer robe, while the boys who were outnumbered were sent off to the bathrooms to change. She smiled slightly as she heard Pansy asking after the Prefect's heritage.

"Her name's Clearwater, Parkinson. Penelope Clearwater if you care to know," Blaise called over Pansy's shrill voice, causing her to stop in surprise.

"And just how would you know that, Zabini," Pansy asked with a hint of scorn in her voice. "Even if that was true, Clearwater isn't a pureblood name."

"Yes, I think she's a halfblood or something, actually," Blaise responded in a thoughtful sounding voice, before turning to an amused tone. "As for how I know…well, I think that's for me to know and you to try eternally to find out, Parkinson."

For the remainder of the train ride, Pansy was caught between indignation and an attempt to hold her 'image' before a group of purebloods she wasn't too familiar with.

As the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station, an announcement went out to leave their luggage, and the group of first years waited until the flood of upper years subsided a little, before heading over to the half-giant calling them all over.

"Right, all here then? Well, follow me," Hagrid called out before leading them off through the edge of the Forbidden Forest to the lake. "You'll get your first look at Hogwarts real soon."

Blaise didn't have to fake the look of happiness and wonder that came over her face at seeing the castle again. It had literally been decades since she'd seen the castle in such good condition. Any misgivings about having to 're-learn' seven years of knowledge all over again instantly left her as she gazed up at the building, still managing not to slip or stumble once while walking down the forest path, despite not one glance to the twisted ground.

"No more than four to a boat," Hagrid called out from somewhere near the front. As their little group spread out to the boats, Blaise and Susan Bones ended up in a boat with none other than Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

"Hello again," Blaise comments, sending Harry a friendly smile as the two realize they have company.

"Oh, you're…Blaise, right?" Harry asks after a moment of staring, to which Blaise nods. "Thanks again for the help earlier. So you're a first year too?"

Blaise has time to nod again before the boats set out on their own, while privately laughing at Ron's incredulous look. Probably wondering how someone can talk to the Boy-Who-Lived so casually.

"You know, I never did introduce myself before, did I? How'd you know my name?" Harry asks again after a moment of quiet sailing. Blaise just laughed a bit.

"You might want to get used to it, Harry. That mark of yours is introduction enough for most," she replied, motioning slightly to his forehead. By his expression, she could already guess he was getting tired of his famous scar.

"Great," he muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, causing Susan to laugh, before introducing herself as well.

"Mind your heads," came Hagrid's call from the front. Personally, Blaise couldn't see who he was calling to. None of them were even half his height while sitting in the boats, and he fit well enough.

Disembarking, the little foursome stuck together for a bit as they entered the castle proper and met Minerva McGonagall face to face for the first time.

Blaise zoned out a bit, listening to the mostly unbiased speech on the four housed and the point system. After seven years, she was pretty sure she understood well enough. Looking around for more familiar faces, she was somewhat saddened and unnerved that she could only match about half the faces here to names she knew from her own time at Hogwarts.

"So how d'you reckon we get sorted?" Ron asked those around him in general. Deciding to be a bit sarcastic, Blaise turned to him.

"You know, it's called a school secret for a reason. If anyone here actually did know how, what makes you think they'd say so?"

That sent Ron into furious mutterings and 'angry' glances as Susan and Harry chuckled a bit as well. Feeling slightly bad for him, she continued.

"Well, I don't think you have to worry too much. Whoever told you that crap story about the troll's off their rocker. Although learning how to fight a troll might just be a good thing to know. You never know," she added at the end.

Harry opened his mouth and looked like he was about to say something when the door opened and Professor McGonagall returned.

"We're now ready for you. Please follow me."

chapter 2; end


	3. Chapter 3 Halloween Yr1

Chapter 3; Halloween, Yr 1

"When I call your name, please take a seat on the stool," Professor McGonagall spoke to the first years in the front of the Great Hall once the Sorting Hat finished its song. Ever since McGonagall returned for them, Blaise had been hard at work burying her secret thoughts and, to the lesser extent, plans for the next coming years under memories of her last eleven years of life. Hopefully that would be all the hat would look at and they'd be done with it. Of course, she'd already been assured before she 'left' that the Sorting Hat was bound to keep the secrets of those who sit beneath it, but she wanted assurance. Her memory layers were in place more for Dumbledore and Snape, until she would normally be old enough to 'learn' Occlumency.

As more and more students were sorted, Blaise began to get nervous for other reasons entirely. She was about 120 percent certain she'd end up in Slytherin, but she didn't want Harry to completely shun and ignore her. Vaguely she wondered exactly when she began thinking of herself as just Blaise and not as Harry herself, anymore.

"Potter, Harry."

The usual whispers followed Harry up to the stool to be sorted, and everything seemed to go as she had figured they would. Harry was still murmuring 'not Slytherin' under his breath, before he was proclaimed 'Gryffindor'. Ron Weasley got his normal 'another Weasley' exclamation before following after Harry, and before long Blaise was the only one standing there, getting a couple odd looks from Harry.

'_I never did tell him my last name,'_ she mused to herself just as Professor McGonagall called 'Zabini, Blaise.'

While her family wasn't quite known like the Malfoys or the Notts, apparently it was enough to catch Ron by surprise, as Blaise noticed him jerk slightly as she walked to the stool. Wondering what he'd heard about her rather consistently neutral family, she sat and waited for the Sorting Hat to cover her eyes, before greeting it.

'_Hello then, Damian.'_

The Great Hall in general started as the Hat almost jumped after being addressed by its century old name. Professor Dumbledore even leaned forward slightly, wondering if he couldn't get the Hat to at least tell him one little tidbit about a student.

"_And how, pray tell, do you know that name, Miss Zabini?"_ it asked her, to which she smiled.

'_A little birdie told me. That's a bit off topic, however. I thought I was supposed to be sorted now,'_ she commented, and the Hat fell silent. It was a bit of a different experience than before, where she remembered it murmuring in her ear as it thought. Nonetheless, before long it shouted out 'Slytherin!' for all the Great Hall to hear.

Making her way to her seat near some of the girls she had sat with on the train ride over, she risked a glance around the Hall. Harry seemed kinda shocked, and Ron looked almost mad. It was now time to see just how much House affiliation ruled their judgment.

"Hey, Blaise? What happened with the Sorting Hat up there?" asked Tracey Davis, a halfblood from some parent two or three generations past.

"Dunno, I was just being nice and saying 'hello'," Blaise answered with an 'innocent' smile which just screamed 'I'm guilty'.

"Fine, whatever. Keep your secrets," Daphne commented across from her as food began to appear on the tables.

"I think I will, thanks," Blaise commented absentmindedly as she began to pick at her food, not really paying attention to her surroundings.

--

The next week or so of classes was rather dull in Blaise's opinion. She met Hermione on the third day in the library, searching for something to better keep her attention in classes. At least if they were doing actual spellwork she could be practicing nonverbally from time to time. Returning to the past as well as the Blood Adoption (which she still hadn't been told about) had altered her blood and magic enough that it took a bit of practice to get everything squared away. Somehow, the Basilisk Venom-Phoenix Tear mixture in her blood had remained, but she still couldn't fully cast spells using just the blood in her veins as a sort-of quasi-wandless magic like before, which frustrated her to no end.

Meeting Hermione could also have gone a bit better. She had greeted the other bookworm, but had just got a nervous 'hi' in return before the bushy haired Gryffindor hurried off. Apparently she was already having problems with the Slytherins in school. Aside from that, it was fairly nice to be able to go through classes relatively anonymous. Ron outright ignored her, and Harry kept giving her odd looks, but that was to be expected from two eleven year olds. Daphne and Tracey turned out to be fairly good friends, despite all three of them remaining somewhat aloof no matter what the situation.

The only other somewhat interesting event was their blotched flying lesson. Taking pity on the natural klutz that was Neville Longbottom, she managed to get off a discrete cushioning charm before he landed (exact same spot as last time, mind). He was still sent off to the nurse, but nothing was exactly broken this time. Harry still took off after Malfoy for the Remembrall, and was still dragged off by McGonagall. She still managed to catch Harry's eye and mouth 'relax' and send him a smile before he passed from sight. Potions was still almost as painful as the first time around. This time, however, one of the upper year Slytherins had mentioned in the common room earlier that one of the bookcases in the room was changed by Snape with books about the different ingredients and effects that they could have when mixed together about ingredients and potions they would be making and using in the near future. A rather good idea, if discriminatory.

It wasn't until the last week of September that Blaise had another chance to talk to Harry. Oddly enough, it had been on the Quidditch pitch. Blaise had decided to go flying one day, getting bored with reading and schoolwork long since finished. Apparently, Gryffindor Quidditch team had finished practice, and Harry was lagging behind just flying around lost in thought. It was odd, because Blaise could never once remember doing anything of the sort the first time around.

"Your team's not here anymore, you know?" she commented flying up beside him, then looping around a few times. Startled, he began to slip slightly before catching himself again.

"Blaise…What are you doing here?" Harry asked watching her tracing an imaginary sphere around him in the air.

"Students _are_ allowed to borrow the school brooms to take for a spin every now and then, you know?" she commented, before amending slightly. "Well, not you. You get your own broom. You're a lucky one, you are."

"Yeah…" he said, trailing off watching Blaise fly around him at various degrees before she finally leveled off next to him. Upside down, that is.

"Something on your mind, there?" She asked, staring him in the eye as if her being upside down was normal.

"Well, uh, not really…"

"You gonna make me guess?" Blaise asked with a growing grin, as Harry looked slightly uncomfortable. Finally he asked her his question in the nicest way he could think of.

"What's it like…being in Slytherin?" his voice still had an underline of dislike when mentioning the Serpent House.

"Why? Thinking of a transfer?" Blaise asked with a small laugh before growing serious. "You really shouldn't judge groups based on stereotypes, no matter how many people you know who fit those to a 't'."

"It's just that, well, I've heard so many different stories and such about Slytherin that, well…you just don't seem to fit in with any of those," Harry commented, pointedly ignoring the Slytherin patch on the right breast of Blaise's sweater.

"And who's been telling those stories, hmm?" Blaise asked back, righting herself and floating in a lazy orbit around Harry. "Was it the Gamekeeper, who was expelled because of the story and evidence all provided by a Slytherin prefect with little to no question or investigation? Was it the boy whose family has been in Gryffindor for generations and grew up with story after story of a Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry? Or was it from your now teammates who have most likely all been sent to the infirmary at least once in their time at Hogwarts because the rivalry surrounding Quidditch is so strong? There are two sides to every coin, Harry, and at least two sides to every person as well. I belong in Slytherin just as much as, if not more so than Malfoy. Does that make me bad? Does that make those people telling stories bad?"

"I guess not," Harry admitted cautiously. "How do you know all that about Hagrid and Ron and everyone, anyways?"

"I know many things, Harry. I know things you'd probably never even imagine let alone think to know, and yet I'm not in Ravenclaw, and neither is that girl, Hermione. The Hat sees past our masks and our lies, Harry, then it places us where, deep down, we want to go; where we truly belong. These Houses, for all their reputation are all really different sides of the same coin," Blaise continued in a semi-serious monologue as she continues orbiting Harry, who was turning to keep her in sight all the time.

"Two sides of a coin? But how can that be? Gryffindor and Slytherin don't look or act anything alike," Harry insisted, shaking his head slightly.

"Can you really say that after the sorting?" Blaise asked him, Cheshire grin forming on her face. "Tell me, Harry; what are some of the things the Hat whispered in your ear as you sat there during the ceremony? What little words of truth, without the masks of perception and lies did it speak as it came to its decision on where you would spend the next seven years…Think on that for a bit, would you? Now would you like to fly a bit? I promise not to mention anything about your flying style to the Slytherin Team."

Her unexpected turn in conversation startled Harry, who just sat there as Blaise flew past and touched his arm, whispering 'Tag' in his ear as she went. She got halfway across the pitch before Harry got his bearings and rocketed after her. While Blaise had decades of experience over Harry, she still had slight balance problems and she was riding one of the ratty old school brooms, where Harry was a natural, of course, and on the best broom one could currently buy. It was two exhausted eleven year olds who made their way to bed that night, smiling all the while.

--

September rolled over into October seamlessly enough, while Blaise practically lived in the Library when not in classes. She had yet to find a fiction section in the whole bloody thing, so resigned herself to looking through textbooks to find anything interesting; mainly other forms of magical talent. During the rare moments that she thought back to her past, Blaise remembered Harry having to bring down wards and such around Voldemort's hideouts that only responded to spells cast in Parseltongue. That had led to the discovery of what was dubbed 'Parselmagic', which had been limited to normal spells spoken in Parseltongue for Harry but, in their duels, Voldemort had made hissing noises that Harry would've sworn translated to gibberish, until the spells started flying. It only stood to reason that either Voldemort liked to experiment with dangerous things that could possibly backfire and kill him, or he read it somewhere. The school, and thus the Chamber of Secrets was merely rubble by this point, so they had given up on that possible vein of power. Now, though, Blaise actually had to wait until the end of next year to finally have a look. Unless…she opened the Chamber _now_…

Shaking her head, Blaise snapped her current book shut and turned to leave. The Halloween feast would be happening that afternoon, and it was giving her all kinds of nerves. There was no reason that events this time around would be any different than the first time, but Time and Fate were fickle mistresses at best. Nodding to Hermione who was checking out books at the front desk as she left, she received a small acknowledgement for her troubles. Apparently Hermione was a hard one to win over. Or maybe it was just the House barrier again.

Harry hadn't really been avoiding her anymore, but they still never really saw each other outside of class. Blaise had no idea exactly how much he thought over what she'd said, but at the very least he was for the most part friendly.

Taking a small detour, Blaise stopped by her dorm and grabbed an item out of the cloak she first wore to the train station. After she had won her first sword competition, her father had managed to get an enchanted katana on a 'business trip', as he called them (Blaise had no idea what he did for a living, but it certainly didn't really involve these 'business trips'). One such enchantment was meant to have it fit snugly in its sheath, no matter what. Of course, Blaise took this a step further and got a rather small miniature sheath that would be easy to carry around. True to form, the full sized blade fit perfectly in the too-small sheath and would be full sized when drawn. Being unable to use magic legally, she took to carrying her blade around with her instead; even all the way to Hogwarts. It would be the first time she brought it around with her since coming to Hogwarts.

Sliding into her seat in Charms just before the late bell and getting a 'look' from Professor Flitwick, they began going over the wand movements for the Levitation Charm one final time before casting…or attempting, as it turned out for most. Knowing she could cast the spell normally, Blaise was actually only mouthing the words as she attempted to shape her magic with only the thought for the incantation. Her feather began to float not a minute after Hermione 'demonstrated' for Ron. Canceling the charm, she then began trying to get the feather up without even thinking the incantation; and odd trick Hermione and Luna Lovegood came up with a couple years after school, and how Harry first learned his 'wandless' ability. By the end of class, Blaise managed to have it twitch up a bit before fluttering back down. Growling slightly, she flicked her wand at the feather and turned it to ash, which caused her to scowl even more. The _Fire_ Charm worked as she wanted with barely a thought, yet a simple Levitation seemed currently beyond her.

Walking out of the classroom, she caught the trail end of Ron's comments about Hermione and said girls tearful storming off.

"Smooth, Weasley. Real smooth," she commented in a stage whisper, still in a slightly sour mood.

"Oh, shut your mouth you dirty snake," he shot back, still frustrated himself, having not meant to send the Gryffindor bookworm off in tears.

"At least I have the dignity to actually insult someone in their face, instead of whispering behind their backs and hoping no one hears me. Now she'll probably be crying in the bathroom all day and miss the feast just to avoid the jerks that call themselves her housemates," she finished off before heading to the Slytherin Common Room to wait for the feast to start. Harry hadn't said anything.

--

Sitting at her House table and nibbling at some of the food provided for the feast, Blaise kept one hand in her robes at all times, clutching the hilt of her katana hidden there. She shouldn't have to interfere during the troll incident, but she'd be damned if something happened because she put too much faith in Fate. Sure enough, Harry and Ron were having a whispered conversation with somewhat worried expressions and Hermione was nowhere to be seen. And then, Quirrel came bursting in.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeons!" he exclaimed, running halfway up to the Head table before stopping. "Just thought you ought to know."

As he tumbled forward, Blaise found herself admiring the extent of his acting skills. Not everyone realized that people who are knocked out while standing up are supposed to fall forward. Meanwhile, Slytherin's "prince", Draco Malfoy was screaming his head off, and Tracey and Daphne were clutching at one another, one step away from crying themselves. Blaise slid off the bench and into the shadows covering the wall behind her as Dumbledore made his announcement, which was quickly modified by a prefect running the length of the table after speaking to Professor Snape before leading them to the Library a few floors up instead of into the dungeons to the troll.

Following the general crowd out of the Great Hall, Blaise slipped behind the Gryffindors as they made their way up to their common room, stopping at the second floor to follow Harry and Ron off to the bathroom. As she was following the two eleven year old boys, something struck her as strange, but she couldn't quite place it.

'_They're moving off to where the troll is, there's no sign of the thing yet, we're all sneaking off in the shadows…'_ she thought before her memory kicked in; Harry and Ron were making a conscious effort to remain hidden in the shadows. It was a rather poor attempt, but she was pretty sure before she and Ron had just taken off running. _'They better not get there late!'_

As it turned out, the two boys and their hidden follower arrived just in time to hear a high pitched, scream. Cursing under her breath, Blaise hurried to catch up to the Gryffindors who had taken off and burst into the restroom without a second thought. She stopped just short of bursting in after them, and decided to watch for a few moments.

Following their previous standards, the two boys were being more cautious than before; only in this case it was proving to be a rather _bad_ thing. When the chance presented itself for Harry to jump atop the troll to assault its nose, he kept his distance. Well, this wouldn't do.

Somehow; Blaise wasn't quite sure how, the troll managed to hoist Harry up by his leg. Unfortunately, Harry dropped his wand when this happened. Ron was busy, at the other end of the room helping Hermione to 'catch' the troll's club out of the air. Eventually, the troll got bored trying to hit Harry, and decided to simply chuck him at the far wall.

'_Can't have that'_ Blaise thought, before tensing slightly and darting into the room like a shot. One moment, the Boy-Who-Lived was about to be splattered on the bathroom wall; the next he and Blaise collapsed to the ground a few feet, sliding across the wet floors to bump into the walls with considerably less force.

"Well, fancy meeting you here. You do know this is _girl's_ bathroom, right Harry?" Blaise quipped, sliding easily into a kneeling position. Perhaps it was the pure insanity of the situation, but all Harry could seem to do was stare dumbly up at the Slytherin girl. The troll also seemed to be confused on the sudden appearance of this new character. It seemed to be a common trade off; intelligence and the ability to think and plan for unnatural strength; you could only have one or the other, not both.

"Right, now you die," Blaise muttered, turning to the troll who had just decided to simply crush this newest pest. As it began to raise its club above its head, Blaise took ahold of the katana hidden in her robes and darted foreword. Using the troll's body as stepping stones, she hopped up to the creatures neck level and, faster than the various untrained eyes present could see, yanked the sword from its sheath, followed with centrifugal force and letting the blade slide through the tough hide as though it were tissue paper. Before so much as a drop of the thing's blood could fall on her, Blaise gave the troll's chest a firm kick. While the move had no overall effect on the monster, Blaise herself was pushed backwards, retaining some if her spin. Re-sheathing her sword while still in the air, she managed a rather ungraceful landing, slipping and sliding on her back along the floor.

The troll waivered about a bit before collapsing face first in a growing pool of its own blood, a quick Legilimency check showed that none of the other first years had even noticed her sword, let alone saw its magically sharp edge slice the brute's throat. Flopping back onto the ground from where she sat up, Blaise groaned and began muttering to herself, drawing the others attention to her.

"Stupid bloody defense teachers can't remember where the stupid bloody troll is and stupid bloody Dumbledore saying to go to the dungeons where the stupid bloody troll is SUPPOSED to be…" she continued before trailing off as the 'Calvary' came to the rescue.

"What. Happened. Here?!"

chapter 3; end


	4. Chapter 4 Holiday Yr1

Chapter 4; Holiday

'_It's been an interesting month,'_ Blaise mused to herself from her compartment on the Hogwarts Express. As expected of him, Snape somehow managed to practically cover up the fact that one of his Slytherins had been involved in the 'Troll Incident', focusing more on Dumbledore's shortsightedness in sending his students into the proverbial fire by going to the troll's supposed location and Quirrell's ineptitude in naming said locations. The second floor isn't all that close to the dungeons, after all.

Despite the altered incident, Harry, Ron, and Hermione still became good friends. Ron still acted coldly to Blaise, but Hermione was a bit more social when they met up in the Library. In fact, the two were sitting in the same compartment on the Express, both reading books borrowed from the Library. It just so happened that Hermione had come across some random corner somewhere in the Library (Blaise still wasn't quite sure where) that served as their fiction section. Apparently, people only used the Hogwarts Library for research, which Blaise thought was utter rubbish, but what did she know?

Harry and the Weasleys were staying at Hogwarts again this time around. Blaise almost wanted to stay as well, if only to try and catch a glimpse of the Mirror of Erised once more. She had long ago realized that the writing around the mirror was in mirror-language; that is to say, it was written backwards; but she still wanted to read it, and possibly see her own desire. Call it natural curiosity or the beginnings of hormone imbalance or whatever, she still wanted to. Her thoughts were interrupted by the compartment door opening.

'_Could've sworn I'd locked that…'_

"Zabini, _what_ are you doing?!" Pansy Parkinson's shrill voice resounded through the compartment. Hermione ducked her head slightly while Blaise stared at her, blinking owlishly.

"Surely you can't be _that_ stupid, Parkinson? It's called reading a book. You know, those pieces of paper all tied together with fancy covers and sometimes pretty pictures as well? I know you've seen those somewhere before," Blaise commented with as straight a face as she could manage which, while her lips developed a slight twitch, Hermione had her face buried in her book, and she noticed Daphne and Tracey in the background covering their mouths and looking away. Just before she did, Daphne caught her eye and mouthed _'I'm not so sure she HAS'._

For her own part, Pansy's mouth kept opening and closing like a fish before she swelled with indignation.

"You _know_ what I meant, Zabini! Why are you sitting with…with…with the mudblood!" she shrieked, which caused an unnatural quiet to surround them.

"And since when have I cared? You should know that my family's always been neutral in all those blood purity wars. Why ever should I be any different, because I'm in Slytherin? Don't confuse ambition with blood supremacy, Pansy," Blaise commented, before turning back to her book. "You can go now."

Pansy looked like she'd been slapped for a moment, and almost started shouting again, before storming away. As her little cohorts left with her, Daphne and Tracey stuck their heads into the compartment, and gave a smile and wave each. Blaise turned to them slightly and returning the actions before the two other Slytherin first years giggled and ran off after Pansy, most likely to tease her about her lack of knowledge on books or some other mundane thing like that.

'_Sometimes those two _really _remind me of the Weasley Twins. I'll have to be sure to try and keep them that way,'_ Blaise thought, before trying to go back to her book.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," Hermione spoke up from the far corner by the compartment's window.

Blaise looked up at her for a moment with an unreadable expression, before smiling at the other girl.

"Do what?" she commented before turning back to her book. Nothing more was said, but the compartment seemed a bit less tense than itwas before.

* * *

As the train came to a stop at Platform 9 ¾, Blaise walked off the train with Daphne and Tracey, who were still chatting and laughing over how shrill they got Pansy's voice to get. Finally, Blaise mentioned her earlier thoughts on them being similar to the Weasley Twins, which caused the two to pause, and turn to each other.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Tracey asked.

"Depends," Daphne responded. "Are you thinking that maybe we should introduce ourselves?"

"Just leave me out of it when Filch starts trying to lynch you or something," Blaise commented with a small laugh as she began searching the crowd for someone she knew.

"See you in a couple of weeks," Tracey called over her shoulder as she vanished across the barrier into King's Cross. Daphne gave a similar statement as she branched off to where her parents were waiting to leave.

Wandering around a bit, Blaise eventually spotted John talking to none other than the Grangers, with Hermione waiting nearby.

"Heya Johnny," Blaise called out, purposefully bumping into him as she bounced over, happy to be going home.

"Now, now, _Miss_ Blaise, it's rude to interrupt," John scolded. Or, he tried to, his lips kept quirking as she pouted at the semi formal title.

"No fair, you have too many names to call me that I don't like," Blaise commented with a slight pout, before turning to a bemused Hermione. "Hello again, Hermione."

The bushy haired Gryffindor blinked a few times before speaking up.

"Blaise, are you…feeling alright?" she asked before actually moving forward to check the temperature of her forehead. This just set John off laughing even more.

"What, can't I be happy to go home after about four months?" Blaise asked, leaning back and brushing the hand away. "You'd think I wasn't still a kid."

"You don't act like it," Hermione commented, this time with a small quirk of her own lips.

"Would you rather I acted like Malfoy or Weasley?" she quipped back and looked over to find the adults staring at them in amusement. "What, weren't you all kids once too?"

"Ah, she's getting sarcastic again. I guess it's time to go before she gets bored and annoys me with pointless observations the whole ride home," John mentioned with fake distress, while Blaise perked up and began smiling at his 'suggestion'. "Don't you dare. Silencing spells may be golden, but duct tape is silver."

"You're no fun," Blaise commented with another pout, as Hermione tried to stifle her laughter; key word, tried. "Ah, quiet you. By the by, it may interest you to know some of the better _philosophers_ and _inventors_ lived far before this century. Keep that in mind, would you, Hermione?"

Ignoring the Gryffindor's look of confusion, Blaise turned and began to follow John out to the car he drove. The squib may never be able to fully fit into the muggle or the magical worlds, but he enjoyed finding different things to 'experiment' (read 'play') with. Personally, Blaise was slightly disappointed that he didn't bring the motorcycle.

* * *

The Zabini household was a rather odd one as far as pureblood homes go. Oh, the manor looked like many of the others, to an extent. It's the company kept that might strike one as odd. Not many purebloods tolerated squibs, yet there was John living with the family year round as a 'butler'. Then there was Zippy, the house elf. He was a rather old thing, working for the household since about Blaise's father's childhood. He practically lived in the kitchen, most of his old jobs slowly being taken over by John as Zippy got too old to do them. The one task he would not let go of, was cooking all their meals.

Blaise's parents were normal enough as far as purebloods go, her father, Aaron Zabini was rather tall, somewhere over six feet, with dirty blond hair kept short. He was around at the manor most often than not, unless he left on a 'business trip', as he called them. Whenever he'd announce one of these 'trips', his wife shook her head and paid him no mind, continuing whatever she'd been doing beforehand.

Maria Zabini was a petite woman with rich chocolate hair who was rather easygoing, always wanting to be a good mother for her child. The fact that she lost her first child along with the ability to have any other children naturally had hurt her emotionally. Of course, Blaise kept her days interesting; always wanting to do things 'no proper young lady should even be thinking of doing', not that she tried too hard to stop her daughter. Currently, both parents were sitting in the family room waiting for Blaise to return with John. They'd know the instant she was back, mainly because-

"I'm BACK!" an eleven year old blur announced as she jumped onto the wide couch where her parents had left barely enough room for her to squeeze in.

"So we hear," Aaron commented, giving Blaise a hug before getting up to spell the luggage in the car upstairs before John was stuck lifting it by hand.

"I suppose it was a rather foolish hope that time away from home studying in an actual school would mellow you out a bit," Maria teased her daughter lightly, also giving the young girl a hug.

"Nah, other way around. No expression creates a back-up build up, and you all just have to deal with the explosion. Lucky you," Blaise commented, cheeky grin firmly in place.

"You know, you really should stop doing that," Maria commented gently, as her daughter just hummed noncommittal. They sat there for a time, Blaise simply happy to be back in a loving home, and her family, however mismatched it may seem, was happy to have her back as well.

* * *

The remainder of the holiday break was spent with a great deal of lazing about. Now that she was finally away from the other Slytherin pureblood's watchful eyes, Blaise was taking every chance she had to just have fun. This whole 'new life' was her first real chance to be a kid, and she wasn't going to miss out on a single minute of it.

However, no matter how 'normal' her parents were, they were also purebloods as well. Both had been rather pleased that she wasn't actively making enemies in 'the pureblood house', and also seemed happy that she got along well with Daphne and Tracey. Of course, she also took the time to tell them that unless drastic changes occur, she wasn't likely to get along well, if at all, with some of her classmates like Draco and Pansy.

Christmas turned out to be a small event, only really consisting of the members of the Zabini household. Most of the gifts were small little trinkets (what could you expect from various pureblood families who really know nothing about your hobbies and likes?), but Blaise had managed to get Harry an assortment of Wizard sweets. Looking back, it seemed rather amusing how ignorant she'd been when first entering the Wizarding World as Harry Potter, celebrity, and Boy-Who-Would-Not-Die (Voldemort had actually called her that once, and she found it infinitely more amusing that any of her other hyphenated names). It was her excuse to also give him a somewhat comical book about Wizarding customs, and their society as a whole. No help in navigating pureblood circles, but good for a few laughs, and the information was rather accurate. She also managed to send Albus Dumbledore an unsigned, unmarked parcel containing a couple pairs of 'thick, woolen socks', idly wondering what he'd tell Harry now, when they met before the mirror of Erised.

The rest of the Holiday break was mostly spent just lazing around, with a bit of study, homework, and swordplay thrown in for good measure. Apparently, although hidden from most of the school population, Professor Snape still mailed her parents of her involvement in the whole Troll Incident. He'd also mentioned the troll seemed to have its throat cut out, which was more than enough information for Blaise's father to put her through her paces.

"It seems," he commented once, "That you're too active for your own good. If you're going to go around hunting down trolls, giants, and dragons, might as well make sure you do it right."

He'd been kidding about the whole troll/giant/dragon hunting bit, but Maria still took the opportunity to sling a few jinxes and curses at him, which he managed to weave around, all the while lecturing Blaise the importance of movement and footwork, not only in sword fighting, but dueling as well. This lasted until his wife finally banished the entire rack of weapons at him (all of which he claimed able to wield; Maria openly scoffed at that one), which was a little too big and pointy for him to actually dodge. Needless to say, John took over her lesson for that day, himself having a somewhat higher than average skill due to his inability to use magic (although, he seemed more comfortable with a pair of handguns than a sword), while Aaron was treated by Zippy, with much muttering about 'masochistic masters who don't know when to keep their traps shut'.

The train ride back to Hogwarts was also rather amusing; Blaise sat in a compartment with both Tracey and Daphne, who had decided it would be better to 'introduce' themselves to Hogwarts' resident 'Prank Kings' with a small gag of their own. They weren't specific, but it apparently involved a letter, some kind of dust, a camera, and a toilet seat. Blaise decided she probably didn't _want_ to know how the heck a couple of first years managed to pull of any prank involving such things, let alone where they got the ideas from. She vaguely remembered Fred and George mentioning sending their sister a toilet seat…

Classes still proved to be rather dull, but they were slowly moving away from theory-exclusive classes, so there was actually time to practice spells. Blaise still had slight trouble 'willing' her magic into spells, only to discover an unnatural affinity for fire spells (she'd been trying to 'will' a feather to levitate again, and ended up throwing down her wand to glare at the innocent feather, only to have it burst into flame. Tracey teased her about having a literal 'death glare', and playfully hid behind Daphne when Blaise shot her an annoyed look).

News about Snape refereeing the next Quidditch match had been the talk of Slytherin House for a while, conspiracy theories flying left and right filled with mirth and speculation. Many were wondering exactly how he'd managed to convince Dumbledore to let him, and hopeful pleas to let him ref one of their own games with amused comments on what he'd do to the other teams during such games. During the time before previously mentioned anticipated Quidditch Match, Blaise managed to run into Harry once while wandering around after dark.

* * *

Blaise was walking around the corridors, trying to bleed off a little of the restlessness that came from the rather repetitive days of schoolwork. Slytherin didn't believe females to be any good at playing Quidditch, so she wasn't able to try out even if she wanted to, and the weather was horrible enough that she'd rather stick it out with some light reading and spell practice instead of flying about.

As she was passing by another hallway, Blaise paused for a moment, glancing down the hall with a slight smirk, before continuing on her way, mirth dancing in her eyes. She continued walking for a bit, her smirk steadily growing, before glancing over her shoulder.

"You know it's kinda rude to be following people around, all invisible like that," she commented easily, inwardly laughing at the slight noise of surprise she managed to catch. "One might think you were beginning to develop a creepy stalker fetish. You're not developing a creepy stalker fetish, are you, Harry?"

"Wha? …No, I'm…but…what? How?"

A moment later, Harry threw off blushing and stuttering out denials while trying to ask questions.

"Heh, you know, this school wouldn't be half as fun if you weren't around, Harry. A near endless source of amusement, hmm?"

"How'd you know I was there, anyway?" Harry finally managed to ask, ignoring Blaise's teasing for the time being.

"That cloak of yours merely bends the light around you, thus making you invisible to normal sight. There are, however, other ways to know someone's following you around, aside from seeing them, you know," Blaise commented, while turning to keep on walking while motioning for Harry to come along. They walked for a bit in silence, before Harry suddenly spoke up.

"We found him," he said, causing Blaise to pause.

"Beg pardon?"

"Nicolas Flamel. We found him," Harry clarified, giving Blaise a calculating look.

"I suppose congratulations are in order?" Blaise asked with a combination of confusion and amusement. Harry wasn't deterred.

"I don't know how you knew, but that hint you apparently gave Hermione during Christmas break and one more clue lead us to him. So, thanks for that."

"Whatever you say," Blaise commented with a slight wave, not really saying anything about her assistance. "Don't tell me you spent all of break looking in dusty old books for this Flamel person?"

"Nah, mostly just relaxing," Harry said, a reminiscent look coming to his face. "First real Christmas, really. Even got to see my parent…Thanks for your gift, by the way. It gave everyone a few laughs."

"Your welcome. I'm guessing that none of them know that book was from one of the 'nasty' Slytherins, hmm?" Blaise commented with a slight smile, which Harry returned, understanding the lighthearted mood. "You mentioned your…parents?"

"Huh? Oh, I just found this mirror…" Harry stopped, becoming aware that he probably shouldn't be talking about that mirror after his talk with Dumbledore. Blaise wasn't really going to just let that go, though.

"Your parents were in a mirror? I think it'd be easier to hide in a portrait."

"It was a magical mirror, supposed to show what your heart really wants. How it could show me my parent's faces, even if I didn't really know what they even looked like before this, though…"

"That's incorrect," Blaise commented, getting a look from Harry. "You were over a year old when your parents died; you knew what they looked like, you just couldn't remember. Besides, this is a _magic_ mirror, apparently. Shouldn't it just be special like that?" she finished in a rather lighthearted manner.

"Hey, I'm new to all this, remember?" Harry said, although he was smiling.

"Yeah, yeah," Blaise waived him off. "Do you still remember where this mirror was, anyway? Call it morbid curiosity, but, I wonder what exactly it would show me…" She trailed off, as Harry looked rather uncomfortable.

"I actually got caught the last time I went; Dumbledore said he'd be moving it, and told me not to search for it…"

"Dumbledore, huh? You're lucky he likes you so much," Blaise commented, while Harry gave some sort of halfhearted denial. They were silent for a moment, before Harry let out a soft snort of amusement. At Blaise's questioning look, he tried to elaborate.

"I actually asked Professor Dumbledore what he saw in the mirror, after he told me what it does, exactly. He probably wasn't really being entirely truthful, but he said something about wanting more socks for Christmas or something. Said someone actually got him some, but he was still trying to figure out who it was that actually gave them to him. Wanted to personally thank them or something." Both shared a small laugh at the thought, although each had entirely different reasons.

"So, what are you doing out here anyway? Don't tell me you actually _are_ trying to stalk me or something," Blaise asked as they came across a staircase and started heading up.

"Nah, just couldn't sleep," Harry said, slight worry creeping into his voice.

"Quidditch?" Blaise asked, to which he nodded. "I wouldn't worry too much; you did fine last time."

"I was just about thrown off my broom, then nearly swallowed the snitch," Harry said with a rather flat voice.

"Still caught it," Blaise countered, before continuing. "And it's your own fault for not having your wand with you. A simple _finite incantatem_ would have probably fixed it for you."

"Huh?"

"Oh, right. You mostly rely on Hermione Granger for the whole book-smart thing," Blaise commented, seeing Harry's confused look. "It's a spell used to undue most common spells and jinxes and such."

"Yeah, well, I'm more worried about Snape overdoi…" Harry trailed off, remembering that Snape was Blaise's Head of House.

"Ah, come on. He may be a right son of a bitch, but he's not that bad," Blaise remarked, realizing just what in general Harry had been about to say.

"Isn't that some kind of contradiction?" Harry asked with an over-done thinking pose.

"Eh, whatever. This is your stop, right?" Blaise mentioned, stopping slightly down the hall from the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Huh? Oh, yeah…" Harry commented, before starting. "Hey, how'd we get here, anyway?"

"Well, we walked of course. It's how normal people get from point A to point B," Blaise commented in a sarcastic tone.

"But…how'd you know where the Gryffindor Common Room is, anyway?"

"I know everything," Blaise said with a tone of arrogance, before ruining it by breaking into giggles.

"Yeah, yeah, see you later Blaise," Harry commented, before turning off to the portrait, but he had a slight smile all the same.

"G'night Harry," Blaise commented, before turning to head to her own bed, while commenting in a whisper; "Just a bit longer, then this year will be done, and everything can truly begin."

* * *

chapter 4; end

* * *

**AN: Eh, sorry to anyone actually waiting for this to be finished. I have no excuse as to why this has taken almost a year. A combination of boredom, overactive imagination, and a number of reviews are what spawned this update (although, sitting in a hotel room on vacation with a computer and no internet could have also played a big part :D. If it makes anyone feel any better, I'll be in the same/similar situation soon, so there **_**may**_** be another chapter out soon).**

**I know I'm rushing things a bit, but really? The first couple of years aren't really all that interesting. Again, special thanks to all the reviewers, and a bit of a special thanks to reviewers like Fire Dolphin, notBald, and Wzd JA who left some extra comments and such for me to think on. It actually helps somewhat, seeing as half the time this story seems to be writing itself (honestly? One of the reasons this took so long; most of this wasn't really planned out beforehand at all :P). I might just end up incorporating some of the things people suggest, so don't be shy! :)**

**For any commenting on a pairing (since that seems to be a favorite topic, no matter what), I'm not really sure. What happens, will happen. Although, to be honest, I'm not quite sure who I would pair Blaise with. This may turn off a few readers, but the only one I probably would pair her with, if anyone, would be Harry (kinda odd, but by my definition of existence and sense-of-self, they are different people. No clue about genetics, though).**

**Any questions, comments, suggestions, and/or concerns can be directed in the form of a review or PM (*hinthint*)**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR, not me**


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